


Oh Captain My Captain

by bucketmouse



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Power Imbalance, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 09:08:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20468534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucketmouse/pseuds/bucketmouse
Summary: Years before the explosion at the conclave shook the whole of Thedas, Maxwell Trevelyan was sent to serve in the Orlesian army as a punishment by his family. At least Captain Rainier is something nice to look at while he's there.





	Oh Captain My Captain

Thom prefered women, everyone knew that. When they had leave in the city, he had only the most buxom whores in his lap, sometimes two at a time. Max only got caught staring the once as one of the women had opened Thom’s shirt right there in the tavern, sliding her hand into the thick hair covering his strong chest. Thankfully the other soldier that noticed assumed that Maxwell’s look was jealousy of their Captain, and not the woman that got to sit in his lap and have her ass grabbed by those big strong hands of his. He was more careful after that, better at hiding his staring. He was noble born, damn it, he was supposed to be better about hiding his expression, his feelings, but if he was that good at the Game he wouldn’t have been sent to serve in the Orlesian army for a season as punishment by his family. 

Still not as good as he thought, though. And the next time he got caught he didn’t even realize it. 

Thom had made no secret of his distaste for the nobility - that was why Max was temprorarally assigned to his unit in the first place. Someone owed someone else a favor of the man who called his shots, and here Max was serving under a Captain that would be perfectly happy to have him dead. They could have found a common ground, the captain and him, both being foreigners in the army of Orlais, but that class gap was too wide to cross. Thom wanted the nobility to suffer and so he wanted Max to suffer, and Max wanted Thom to bend him over a basin so he eagerly did whatever Thom asked of him. 

Max had evening watch, like always. They were barely at the inside edges of the Western Approach, unlikely to run into any more trouble than an annoyed gurn due to rut season or the occasional too desperate half-starved quillback. Captain’s orders were Captain’s orders though, all night watches and Maxwell on the worst of them in the middle of the night when sleep was the most disturbed. 

He was dead on his feet once he changed shifts with the next watch, someone else the Captain was punishing no doubt. Looking forward to just getting a little sleep. Tired enough to not be careful, to be started by a sudden hand on his shoulder holding him in place and keeping him from falling over in surprise. It was just their Captain, though. Out of armor, his solid form was obvious through the light linen of his shirt, the soft leather of his breeches. Maxwell was thankful for the darkness of the night and hoped it covered the redness he could feel spreading across his face. 

“Captain?” Maxwell asked, confused. Captain Rainier didn’t say anything, but he did incline his head to gesture that Maxwell follow him instead of escaping to his own tent for the night. Maxwell had to swallow the sudden lump in his throat, but dutifully followed without further question. 

They ended up at Thom’s tent. Inside his tent, the thick canvas flap closed behind them, the material keeping out the worst of the evening chill. Before Max could prompt the Captain again, Thom went to a table set out with an unlabeled bottle to pour out two glasses of some thick, amber liquid that smelled strong enough that it threatened to make Maxwell’s eyes water from three feet away. 

“Well?” Thom glanced over his shoulder at Maxwell, still standing awkwardly by the tent entrance. “At ease, soldier. Take your armor off, relax a spell.” 

It felt like a trap, but Maxwell obeyed none the less, unbuckling the straps that held on the heavy breastplate and setting it aside along with the bracers of his light armor. He was flushed all over again by the time he was done, but Thom didn’t give him time to stew. He gestured to the one chair in the tent for Maxwell to sit - which he did - and shoved the glass in the boy’s hand. Rather than stand he settled on his own cot, and Maxwell did his best to not stare at the bulge between his legs when he did. 

He didn’t do a very good job at it. 

“So did yer family send you to the military to straighten you out after finding you on the horsemaster’s cock?” 

The sudden question had Maxwell almost choke on the liquor as he tried to drink it, especially as it was already a struggle to down the foul drink. Thom laughed at his reaction, but there was no clarification forthcoming that he had been joking with Maxwell. The nobleman’s face went from faint pink to full scarlet, and he stammered to try and find an answer to that question. Thom shifted on his cot and again Maxwell was distracted by his crotch, realizing that only too late before he quickly looked back up to the captain’s eyes. He’d been caught staring. Again. 

Thom palmed himself through his breeches before he began to unlace them. 

“C’mere then. On yer knees.” 

Max could leave. He could report Thom. It was his word - his word backed by the noble blood of a future landed lord even if he was thirdborn - against the low born Captain with no dedicated patron at his back.

They both knew Maxwell wasn’t going to do that, though. Hands shaking, he set aside the glass of liquor and slid out of the chair, onto his knees and between Thom’s thighs as the captain freed his cock. Even mostly still soft, it was impressively thick, covered in prominent veins and nestled in a thick patch of dark coarse hair. They had been on the road for a few days and all the men smelled of sweat and musk and iron but this close it threatened to make Maxwell’s head spin. The Captain gave his cock a tug, then another, then sat back to take up his own cup again. 

“Well? Get to it, whore.” 

Max’s hands were still trembling as he brought one up to take Thom’s heavy cock in hand, the other braced against the man’s thigh. He had never actually touched another man this way before, but he wasn’t about to admit it. Not with the unexpected thrill of Thom’s prick hardening as Maxwell stroked it, thickening until the foreskin was tugged back enough to reveal the darkened head of it. Maxwell’s mouth watered at the sight. 

“Lick it, boy,” the Captain directed. “So hungry for lowborn cock, eh? Here’s your chance for a taste of one.” He took a drink of his liquor, watching Maxwell impassively, as if the noble was doing nothing more interesting than shining boots. Maxwell’s first lick was hesitant, but the first taste of the salty skin on his tongue and he was quickly lapping at it eagerly as any whore. Thom’s hand found Maxwell’s hair, holding tight to keep him in place. “Good boy,” his voice rumbled, pleased. “Watch the teeth.” 

With Thom’s direction, Maxwell kept pumping his cock, licking, sucking, kissing the rest of it until Thom’s prick swelled to full size before his eyes. He had gotten even thicker, and chuckled at the way Maxwell’s eyes went wide when he finally was allowed to pull back to get a good look. Trailing the calloused hand down from Max’s hair, Thom was almost gentle as he cupped Max’s cheek, running his thumb across the swollen bottom lip of the young man. 

“There we go. Nice red lips on you now. Smaller tits than I like, but maybe your arse’ll make up for that,” he swallowed down the last of his liquor and set his own cup aside finally. “Take your breeches of an' bend over the chair. Let me see if you’ve got anything worthwhile other than your mouth.” 

  
  


He fucked Maxwell, and he was not gentle about it. Maxwell still spilled into Thom’s fist just the same. Still came back the next night just the same. Thom never let up on Maxwell during the day, but for the rest of the season he fucked Maxwell’s mouth and ass almost every night, only letting up when they returned to the city, and he didn’t bother to hide how funny he found it that Maxwell got jealous of the whores he fucked there. It hadn’t been the education his parents had in mind sending Maxwell Trevelyan to the army, but he learned quite a lot in that season just the same. 

  
  
  


More than ten years later, Maxwell Trevelyan, soul survivor of the massacre of the conclave and Herald of Andraste had finally found the lead they were chasing. Up ahead a man in the mishmash of Warden’s armor that came from one who was on the road often was giving what looked like a military sermon to a small group of boys who couldn’t even be men yet- if they were men they would have been fighting to defend their home already. He wanted to let them be, but time was ever of the essence. 

“Blackwall?” Maxwell called as he approached, his retinue less used to scaling cliffs and trailing farther behind him as he didn’t even pause on his approach. “Warden Blackwall?” 

The man turned, seeing first the heraldry of the Inquisition, brow furrowing. Whoever he was expecting to see, Herald Trevelyan was not it. He moved away from the small group to meet the younger man halfway. 

“You’re not - how do you know my name? Who sent-” 

The whizz of an arrow caught Maxwell’s ears too late. Blackwall wasn’t as slow. He stepped into Maxwell’s personal space and shoved a shield up to protect his head, just catching the arrow that would have lodged into his skull and ended the Inquisition before it could truly begin. 

In that heartbeat before the scream of the bandits ripped through the air, they stood less than a handspan away. Past the beard, Maxwell recognized the steel blue eyes that looked into his own. 

“... Captain Rainier?” Maxwell breathed, startled. 

The bandits gave a shout, swarming through the trees, but something told Max that wasn’t what got ‘Warden Blackwall’s face pale with fear. 


End file.
